Beastly
by TehDARKTemplar
Summary: He grasped his head with his claws- wait claws? A sudden awareness flooded through his already pain racked body as he began to feel his body transform. Fur grew everywhere, his legs became double jointed, his nose elongated, his teeth became sharper, his ears grew longer and changed their position, his nails grew larger, harder, deadlier. One-shot on Warwick and his transformation.


**Yay! Another champion one-shot! I really enjoyed my other one for Varus, so I decided to write another one (not to mention it's nice to get a break from Noxian Assassins/True Strength). I'll probably do one on Lucian next. If you don't like this, just remember that all the fics in this "series" will be hurriedly cobbled together and probably not revised XD Just for shits and giggles pretty much. Remember to leave your reviews! **

Beastly.

That's what he was. He was a beast without parallel, without precedent.

He hadn't always been like this. He was once a man, a cruel and brutish man, but a man in a man's body nonetheless.

He had been a renowned tracker in his time as a man, the best in all of Valoran. He would be on the target's trail in a matter of days or even hours. Then, using his exceptional (exceptional for a human's) senses he would track down his target, usually through the most miniscule of leads, a piece of broken grass here, an overturned pebble there. After the short time it took for him to pinpoint his target's location, he would forcibly break in, and then drag them back to his employers.

He set new records every time he was given a new contract. He rapidly became known as the best in the field, delivering results without fail, never questioning the morality of his orders. If you wanted someone, you came to him, and he would merely ask," How much?"

His notoriety and fame grew in leaps and bounds, each successful hunt adding onto his already considerable reputation. And ego.

He began to accept more and more challenging contracts, confident in his own abilities. And yet, his faith was misplaced.

Contracts that gave him days time to track down so and so target in such and such location, usually far away and well defended. It became increasingly difficult for him to deliver the target unharmed and in the required time.

In desperation he turned to his one time student and friend, Singed, the Mad Chemist. He demanded that the master chemist would concoct a potion that would enhance his senses, make him into something superhuman.

Singed had accepted the task with caution, warning his friend of how difficult such a task would be.

He had merely waved aside his concerns, more worried about his money and fame than for his own safety.

Singed succumbed to his demands, and sent him on a hunt in which he would acquire three items: silver from the Shadow Isles, the fang of a Balefire dire wolf, and the heart of a celestial being.

He had accepted the challenge with newfound enthusiasm, it had been a while since his last hunt. He had managed to secure the first item with ease. He had fought his way through the legions of undead that blocked his path to the silver he had so desperately needed. It was easy enough, the undead weren't well known for cooperating with each other.

Elated, he traveled to the far reaches of Valoran to find the next item. He had trouble finding the animal he was required to slay, but that was the hard part. Dire wolves were larger than their smaller cousins the gray wolf, and hunted in smaller packs. They were large, brutish, and could sniff out the faintest trace of blood. But Dire wolves weren't known for their brain power, and with a little planning and construction, he had captured one of the giant beasts. He quickly broke off a fang, deciding to let the beast live as it reminded him of himself.

In a state of euphoria, he had quickly made his way to the mountains of Ionia, all the while contemplating how he would acquire the heart of Soraka, a horned beast that stood upright on two goat legs that were clad in hooves.

He had regarded her with disgust, deeming her un worthy of his graces as she was not human, but he supposed he should thank her for playing a part in his transformation into something... more. He had finally decided on a course of action, brute force and raw willpower would be enough to overpower the frail looking alien.

How wrong had he been. Despite her delicate appearance, she was in reality quite hardy. Literally. She should have died at least a dozen times, but her accursed godhood protected her, and his weapons had bounced off her smooth skin like rubber balls. Then there was the fact that she kept calling upon the stars to come to her aid, which they did with an almost violent zeal. Between her invulnerability to his attacks and the constant barrage of stars he had been sent packing with his tail between his legs.

Furious about his first failed contract he had stormed back into Singed's workshop, presenting to him two of the three items and demanding that he brew the potion.

Singed had protested fervently, going off on the dangers of doing so, but he would have none of it. Finally, after he had resorted to threatening Singed with the loss of their friendship, he had relented.

He was giddy with excitement, determined to use his new abilities to erase the only smudge on his perfect record. Once Singed had finished brewing the potion, he had leapt up to his feet and snatched the vial from his grasp, disregarding the final warning his friend tried to give him.

The rush had been immediate and exhilarating. All of a sudden his sharp senses became dull, outmatched by the newfound power that was coursing through his veins. It was beautiful, empowering... and painful.

The migraine had hit without warning, and all of a sudden he had fallen to the floor holding his head in a desperate attempt to alleviate the pain that congregated there. It was in vain however, as the pain began to slowly, painfully work its way through the rest of his body. The only release that could be had was the screams that had left his mouth.

Singed rushed to his aid, but was beaten back by his thrashing and writhing. Another scream erupted from his mouth as a new wave of pain rushed through his being. Then another. And another. And another.

He had hoped the pain would lull into a dull throb as time went on. Once again he was wrong. His newly honed senses overwhelmed his human brain which was used to its relatively inept senses being exposed to so much more.

Dull hues that he would collectively call "blue" began to differentiate themselves, becoming navy blue, deep blue, Prussian blue, royal blue... Smells he had not had the ability to detect in such a strong manner suddenly rushed in to fill his nostrils, terrifying him and scalding his nose. His ears began to pick up on the faintest of noises, he began to make a map of the world around him using only hearing, a mouse scuttling by there, a fly dying there, the faint crinkle of paper here...

He grasped his head with his claws- wait claws? A sudden awareness flooded through his already pain racked body as he began to feel his body _transform_. Fur grew everywhere, his legs became double jointed, his nose elongated, his teeth became sharper, his ears grew longer and changed their position, his nails grew larger, harder, deadlier.

He thought he was lost, and he opened his mouth to scream. But that was when the real final blow came. He howled.

He had went berserk after that, striking out at anything in his way, leaping onto tables, kicking various pieces of furniture. It had been said that it looked like Hecarim himself had came and ravaged everything himself. In a state of bewilderment and pain he had rushed out into the streets of Zaun and began to terrorize the populace.

He immediately attracted the attention of the authorities, and they tried to take him down. It took a battalion of their finest military men, but they eventually captured him. He will still in a feral state for a few days, but he had calmed immensely after a time, as the remains of his brain not consumed by bestial instinct had begun to stiffen, and with his characteristic determination he had wrested control of his own body from his wolfish counterpart.

Once he regained control of himself, he had examined his cell. The bars were made of steel which would be a problem for any other human, but he wasn't normal. He threw his considerable strength and bulk at the metal bars, and through brute force managed to escape. The terrified guards who were confident that he was tucked safely behind bars fled for their lives.

Initially, he had managed to control his instincts, but the sudden feeling that accompanied being set free also broke the bindings he had managed to place on himself. He let out a blood curdling roar, howling to the full moon that filled the night sky, the sudden break of the shackles was invigorating and depressing at the same time.

At least in the cell he had a definite fate, death either at the hands of the executioner or the plethora of mad scientists that called Zaun their home. Being set free in its own way had shackled him once again. He was an inhuman beast, and that set him apart from the rest of his species who would hunt him, either out of fear of him or in the hopes that they would take his hide as a trophy.

There was no purpose, nothing to live for. So, he had went to go find Singed, his oldest friend. Singed had shown uncharacteristic fright when he had first sighted him, but had overcome his sudden fear and had approached his friend, managing to bring him back from his bloodlust. He had been conducting some tests in the hopes that there was a cure, which, there wasn't. He had however found out a way that would help him establish some control of his animalistic impulses.

Each of the items of the potion contributed different aspects that would perfect the concoction. The Shadow Isle's silver made the transition from human to wolf possible, the fang of the dire wolf gave the user the abilities and senses of a wolf, and the heart was the medium, keeping the user in a state between man and wolf, and werewolf if you will, giving the newly created beast the mind of a man, the senses of a wolf, and a body that was a mix of the two. If the user was not given the heart, they would slowly descend into a beast, their mind slowly being taken over by their wolfish instincts with each passing day.

The heart was a necessity.

The news' implications were frightening, sending him into a flurry of activity. But this was not in rage, it was in him finding a newfound purpose. He now had a goal, and he would devote all of his strength and willpower to achieving it.

He let out a long, chilling howl, signaling the beginning of his equally long and hard hunt that would become the stuff of legend.

With that he abandoned his friend and rushed through the streets of Zaun, heading out of the city gates in the direction of Ionia, intent on securing the heart of the Starchild. He covered the distance a normal human would cover in two days that night, not stopping for breath or air, neither food nor drink. He raced past startled travelers, each step increasing the hold the beast inside held on him. The remnants of his sentient self did not panic however, he would need all the beastly power he could muster for the upcoming battle.

He was beastly in every sense of the word.

He was Warwick, the Blood Hunter, and for him, the hunt would never end until he had Soraka's still beating heart in his blood stained claws.

**Thanks for reading, and please leave your reviews. **


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